


Deadpool is like an evil fairy godmother (He's never invited, but he shows up anyway)

by tgecko



Series: The OT3 borderline crackfic that no one asked for [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Deadpool (2016), Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Awesome Darcy Lewis, BAMF Darcy Lewis, Dry Humping, Frottage, I haven't even seen it yet, Multi, My First Fanfic, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Threesome - F/M/M, and half comic Deadpool, but half movie Deadpool, gratuitous comic book violence, just good old Bucky, maybe 85 percent comic book Deadpool, maybe Deadpool compliant, no first-line Avengers appearing yet, not really anything compliant, other cameos from comic book characters, scavenger hunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-06-09 09:32:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 19,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6900541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tgecko/pseuds/tgecko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody had even invited Deadpool in the first place.  He always showed up like a bad penny, or an evil fairy godmother.  The original team had been Bucky Barnes, Matt Murdock, and Peter Parker, with Darcy Lewis as the obligatory civilian, the token female, and the alliterative C-C-C-C-COMBO BREAKER!</p><p>But then there had been a green and purple dude with a fishbowl on his head and freaky illusion traps, and now two superheros were missing in action with the anti-heros and fandom dark horse favorite left to save the day and win a scavenger hunt.</p><p>(aka Bucky, Wade, and Darcy save the day in micro ficlet form.  Rating has changed for violence and smut)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The List

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in years, and this is how I decide to jump in the pool. *waves hand vaguely* Here's a thing.

The List:  
[] A coin from the year each team member was born  
[] A photo or video of the team diving into a pool while suited up  
[] Dance in a public place  
[] Off-brand plush toy or doll of an Avenger on your team  
[] A characture portrait of your team  
[] A selfie with the Hulk  
[] A selfie with a supervillain  
[] A selfie with an X-Man  
[] Entire team "I can't believe we all fit in here!" photo  
[] A photo of bathroom graffiti  
[] Get a stranger to tell you how they met their significant other  
[] Reed Richards' business card  
[] One of Coulson's collectible cards  
[] A fast food receipt where the amount equals $20.16  
[] An aerial photo of the Stark Industries/Avengers tower  
[] A souvenier from Coney Island that is red, white, and blue  
[] A bottle of Asguardian mead  
[] The obligatory civilian member of the team "rescuing" one of the supers

\---..---

“Well shit.” Darcy spent a moment internally cursing whoever decided that smart phones should be replaced with plain old cameras during the scavenger hunt. “I suppose we should head back to the tower and try to contact the rest of the team.”

Barnes shrugged one shoulder, arms crossed over his chest, seemingly unconcerned that half of their scavenger hunt team had been stolen by a dude who thought a fishbowl headpiece was a fashion statement.

“Aw, come on Lewisalicious! The three of us can totally handle this on our own.” Deadpool came up behind her and smooshed his spandex-clad face against the side of hers. He rested gloved hands on the curve of her shoulders, but the weight of him was light enough that she could easily shrug him off. “Mysterio is a complete pushover. Like a Weeble-Wobble just waiting to be weebled. Or wobbled.” 

Darcy glanced at Barnes and received another laconic shrug for her troubles. Apparently heavy office flirtation and exchanging of several smoldering looks wasn’t enough to protect her personal space from a costumed stranger she had met at two Avengers parties. Both of which he had crashed.

“The longer we stand around jawing about it, the further away they get.” Barnes said after a moment, interrupting her mental spiral into righteous indignation. “You get a cab back to the tower. I’ll see if I can find a trail.” 

“Or,” Deadpool pulled away far enough to pull the scavenger hunt list from her purse, then resettled on her, this time with his chin on her forehead and the list held out at arm’s length in front of the both of them. “We could finish this list and beat up Mysterio and still be the first team to finish. I totally know where the guy’s hideout is, he always chooses the same crappy warehouse. I bet we could even cross off “A selfie with a supervillain” and “The obligatory civilian member of the team "rescuing" one of the supers” at the same time. What’s the grand prize?”

Darcy sighed and pushed Deadpool away. “Dude. Not a piece of furniture.” He stepped back, _finally_ respecting the personal space bubble.

Now there was a gleam in Barnes’ eyes. “A two-week all expenses paid vacation anywhere in the world. You sure you know where they went?” Deadpool nodded vigorously.

Great. Though the fishbowl dude (was he a reverse mermaid in disguise?) didn’t seem so dangerous. Not compared to the Destroyer. Or Dark Elves. She could do this. She could totally do this! 

High on adrenaline and nerves, Darcy felt a grin stretch her face as she looked from one expectant face to the other. “Let’s go scavenger hunting!”

Deadpool pulled a pen from one of his many pouches and wrote “[] Rescue Spidey and Magoo” to the end of the list.


	2. The first couple of items are crossed off the list

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [x] A coin from the year each team members were born  
> [x] A fast food receipt where the amount equals $20.16

_[x] A coin from the year each team members were born_  
“1917.” 

“1986.”

“1991.” 

Darcy and Barnes stared at the regenerating degenerate with tandem expressions of disbelief. Even the pawn shop clerk was staring, though his confusion was aimed at a holographic celebrity look-alike that was clearly in his mid-fifties.

“There’s no way. No fucking way.” 

“C’mon.” Darcy pointed at the belt of pouches around his waist and made a beckoning gesture. “Pony up that drivers’ license. I want to see some proof.”

‘Thom Cruz’ shrugged and grinned. “No can do, Darcy-poo. I left it in my other costume. Besides, I don’t have to prove that I’m right.” He winked and aimed finger guns at her. “Stark just has to prove that I’m wrong.” Pow pow!

\---..---

 _[x] A fast food receipt where the amount equals $20.16_  
Barnes emerged from the burger joint with a brown paper bag already soaked through with grease and a tray with three cups. He took a seat on the curb next to them and distributed the contents of the bag before handing the receipt to Darcy, the official Collector of the Objects.

“What’s this discount for?” She asked, glancing briefly at it before tucking it away.

Barnes’ ears turned red as he avoided eye contact from either one of them taking a long drink from his soda. “I told them about the scavenger hunt, so they gave me a-mumble mumble-discount.”

“Sorry, a what?” Deadpool cupped his hand to his ear bulge and leaned in closer.

“Seniorcitizensdiscount.”


	3. Scuffle on the Subway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a small altercation on the subway.

The key to scavenger hunts, Darcy explained as the current representative for what passed as a ‘normal’ upbringing, is to collect multiple items at one location and therefore limit travel time. Since their team didn’t have any fliers (or pseudo-fliers, as was the case with Spiderman) cutting down travel time will be important.

They’re going to Coney Island anyway, so Darcy marked down the items most likely to be found there. Barnes seemed quiet, but that could be because Deadpool just didn’t shut up.

“Why are we taking the subway, anyway? I would think any scavenger hunt hosted by Tony Stark would come with a complementary platinum credit card or something.” Deadpool and Barnes were both standing in front of her, unintentionally shielding her from the rest of the car.

“He gave us a spending limit, yeah.” Darcy nodded at the manila envelope in her purse. “But whatever we don’t spend gets split with the team. It can be a good amount of cash if we play our cards right.”

“Potts is hosting,” Barnes added. “It’s a birthday present for Stark.” Then Deadpool was chattering some more, some business about birthday parties and clowns, and it’s amusing enough to have even Barnes cracking a barely noticeable smile.

The stop before theirs, half a dozen shady-looking people entered their car. When the train started up again, the car is empty but for the group of ne’er-do-wells and the three of them. She wasn’t one to judge on appearances, but the general exodus of the other travelers was probably not a good sign. The group spread out to surround them; Darcy sighed and reached into her purse, wrapping her hand around the familiar weight of her taser. “Setting phasers to stun,” she murmured, making eye contact with Barnes and hoping he understood that she was ready for the inevitable altercation.

“I guess you haven’t heard,” one of the goons said, stepping forward. “You need to pay a toll if you want to ride in our car.”

“Your car? I don’t see your name on it.” Deadpool followed the lead goon’s finger to the graffittied tag right above Darcy’s head. “Huh. I guess your name is on it. Didn’t anyone teach you that it’s not nice to deface public property?”

“It ain’t public anymore,” the leader snarled. “Stop stalling and give us your cash.” The goon flinched back a bit when Barnes uttered a wordless growl. Then he pretty much confirmed Darcy’s opinion of his common sense (ie, none) by putting his hands in his pockets and coming out with a set of brass knuckles on each hand.

“Oh, yay!” Deadpool jumped in place, clapping his hands together. “It’s time for the action scene! I’ve been waiting for the action scene since the Bay Ridge stop.”

“I don’t think it counts as an action scene when it only lasts two seconds.” Barnes readjusted his stance into something Darcy recognized as ‘about to fuck some shit up.’ “There should be a minimum of 30 seconds, and these little shits sure aren’t going to last that long.” A couple of the goons turned pasty and shuffled back a bit, gripping their weapons tighter.

“That’s what she said,” Darcy added, returning Deadpool’s behind the back high-five. “Seriously though, if you folks just step off and stay over at your end of the car, I’m sure everything will be hunky-dorey, and all your blood and teeth can stay in your body where they belong.”

“I ain’t scared of your pussy-whipped dogs.” The leader spat, a chunky globule hitting Deadpool’s holographic movie actor lookalike square in the chest. The mouthy mercenary looked at it, then at Barnes, then there wasn’t a first punch but two punches thrown simultaneously. _One, Mississippi. Two, Mississippi. Thre-_ Sure enough, the tussle was over, just in time for their stop. Deadpool offered his hand, to which she dropped a mock curtsey before taking it and daintily stepping over the groaning body of the leader.


	4. So it turns out that Deadpool has a healing factor.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [x] A caricature portrait of your team  
> [x] A souvenir from Coney Island that is red, white, and blue  
> [x] A selfie with the Hulk  
> [x] Off-brand plush toy or doll of an Avenger on your team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the kudos and bookmarks!

Barnes had been stiff and uncomfortable ever since they entered Luna Park. They managed to find a caricature artist relatively quickly, but after the portrait was finished, he virtually disappeared. 

Darcy and Deadpool eventually found him next to a set of dumpsters, the odorous site also devoid of people. It was a welcome relief compared to the rest of the park. She brushed his sleeve, lightly catching hold of the fabric at his wrist. “Are you doing okay?” She could feel the heat of Deadpool’s body as he stood way too close behind her, though she didn’t mind the invasion of personal space as much as she might have earlier. Barnes glanced at the two of them, then returned to scanning the area around them. 

“The marker for okay is remarkably low among the superhero population,” Deadpool said. “Hey, Tall-Dark-and-Deadly, how about you and I set out for the shore to search for shells that our sassy Shirley can sell by the seashore while she seeks out souvenirs for the scavenger soiree?” 

That earned a slight smirk. “Could do.” He looked over at Darcy. “You all right with that, ‘Shirley?’”

“Sure.” Darcy shrugged. Deadpool reached around her to grab the wrist she wasn’t holding, closing her in between the two larger men. The sounds of the amusement park faded, replaced with the gentle whir of the plates in Barnes’ arm. She looked up to find his face closer than she expected, eyes focused on hers. “Um.” Was that her voice that was so breathy? Were his eyes closing? Was that a pre-kiss lean in? 

“Hey, if you guys want to stand here and make out next to the dumpster, I can go get the stuff.” 

Deadpool’s voice shattered the ambience and she became very aware of the smell of rotting food. Darcy slipped away from the three-way clutch, smiling awkwardly as she scurried away.

\---..---

Darcy waved goodbye to the precious little girl in the Hunk t-shirt and purple tutu. The girl gave a gap-toothed grin and waved a giant green foam fist at her before rejoining her parents. As the family walked away, Darcy heard the smacking together of two foam fists followed by a recording of the Hulk’s roar.

Between the little girl dressed as the Hulk, the “Spaderman” action figure and the magnet with red, white, and blue fireworks, Darcy had taken care of three items off the list in a half hour. She tucked the camera into her purse and headed for the beach to let her teammates know she was done. 

People were clustered around something in the distance, and after a moment, a figure in red and black flipped above the crowd. It was far enough away that it was hard to tell, but she was pretty sure that the figure- Deadpool, unsurprisingly- waved at her. She sighed and waved back. “Do I even want to know,” she asked under her breath as she started to push through the gathering of people.

Darcy pushed her way to the inner edge of the crowd to find Barnes and Deadpool sparring. For a moment she got caught up in the sight, watching the two different fighting styles facing off in a spectacular display of metal sparks and flexing muscles (gods bless spandex!). But suddenly there was a flash of sunlight on metal and the spray of dark red blood on white sand. Deadpool staggered back a few steps, blood seeping through the hand pressed to his stomach.

“Stop, what are you doing, STOP!” Darcy shouted, sprinting forward to intercept Barnes, who had a wicked looking knife and was advancing on the injured Deadpool. Shit, shit, shit. Was it a relapse? She couldn’t imagine what the mouthy mercenary could have said to trigger the emergence of Barnes’ alter ego, but nothing else would explain why he would be so willing to deal a fatal injury to a supposed ally. 

She skidded to a stop in the loose sand in front of the injured man, digging in her oversized purse for her taser (seriously, how hard would it be to add a special pocket or holster to the bag of holding?) as she faced off against Barnes. “I need you to calm down, okay buddy?”

Barnes tucked his knife away, head cocked to the side in the clearest example of quizzical dog meme ever seen in live action. “I am calm, Darcy. What are you doing?”

“What am I doing? What are you doing?” Her voice was reaching epic levels of shrill as adrenaline hit her, making her hand shake as she closed it around the taser. “Why were you fighting with Deadpool?”

“Oh my gawd, Lew-Lew, were you worried about little ol’ me?!” Suddenly Deadpool’s arms were wrapped around her, the gloved hand that had been pressed against his wound now smearing blood all over her. “You adorable little minx! You are officially my new favorite person.” Then she was being pulled tight against spandex-clad muscles and spun in a circle while Barnes openly laughed at the two of them.

Darcy sighed and slumped back against Deadpool, relaxing her body and watching her legs as centrifugal force swung them outwards. “Healing factor?” She asked Barnes the next time they made eye contact.

“Healing factor,” he confirmed over Deadpool’s continued litany of effusive compliments.


	5. Chere, if Remy said you had a corps belle, would you hold it against him?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [x] Get a stranger to tell you how they met their significant other  
> [x] A selfie with an X-Man  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, those who left kudos, comments, and bookmarks! I mentioned in one of the comments that if you are going to be looking for the smut part, it will happen in the chapter that covers the [] Entire team "I can't believe we all fit in here!" photo. So keep an eye out for that. But I tried to lay the groundwork here. Also, Gambit.

“So.” The housewife braced her fists on her hips, glaring at Deadpool. “You’re the one who pulled my husband from a job that gave great dental benefits and generous paternal vacation days? No, I’m serious, what? What exactly does my Bob even do for you? He sure as hell doesn’t get paid even near what he did when he worked for-“

“Shush-shush-shush-shush-shush,” Deadpool raced to cover Barnes’ ears, loudly singing over whatever organization this Bob person used to work for. “Ex-nay on that, Mrs… Um… Mrs….”

In response, the woman merely glared at him. It was a very effective glare, judging by the toys spread through the living room and the variety of crayon drawings decorating the fridge, she had plenty of opportunity to practice. 

“Mrs. Bob. This person here is very much not a fan of the organization-which-must-not-be-named, regardless of their amazing dental plan and equal opportunity recognition of parental rights. Like, violently anti-that organization. I literally just saved your life here, Mrs. Bob.”

Darcy stepped forward, holding out a hand. “Hi, there. My name is Darcy.”

The woman stared at her hand for a moment before begrudgingly accepting the offered handshake. “Allison,” she replied.

“Hi, Allison. I don’t know the history behind Deadpool and your husband, but I can confirm that mentioning the H-word could have,” Darcy glanced at Barnes, who was currently tolerating Deadpool’s tuneless humming and hands over his ears, “severe consequences. Really, all we need is to record a quick video of how you first met your husband, and then we’ll be on our way.”

After a long moment, Allison heaved a sigh, shaking her head as she crossed her arms across her chest. “Fine. Get your camera ready.” Darcy made sure she was in focus in the frame and gave her a thumbs up. “I went to the Blockbuster to rent Beethoven. That movie with the giant dog? There was one copy left, and Bob and I grabbed it at the same time. We decided to watch it together and make a date of it. That was our first date, about ten years ago. Now get out of my house.”

“Thank you for your time,” Darcy smiled politely at Allison’s obvious ire. 

“Are we done now?” Barnes asked, his voice raised due to the inability to judge his own volume. “Can we leave the Hydra minion’s house yet?”

“What? How did you know?” Deadpool pulled Barnes’ head around to face him. 

In reply, Barnes pointed to a photo on the wall, where a heavily pregnant Allison, two children, and a Hydra minion in full uniform were standing in front of Epcot Center’s Spaceship Earth. 

“Okay, that’s good, we have everything we need. Time to go!” Darcy grabbed both men by the shirt (hah! like she had any chance of moving them on her own) and pulled them toward the front door. “Thank you again, Mrs. Bob- I mean, Allison!”

\---..---

Back on the subway to the next destination, Barnes had sat down next Darcy and thrown an arm around her seat. He was currently combing the fingers of his organic hand through her curls. Deadpool was sitting across from them, but his legs were fully stretched out across the car so that his feet knocked against theirs whenever the tracks curved. 

“Hmm, it looks like we can take care of a few more things at the Avengers tower.” Darcy leaned slightly into Barnes, nibbling on the tip of her pen. “Are you sure that they’ll be fine?”

Deadpool blew a raspberry, waving his hand vaguely. “They’ll be fine. Mysterio is a two-bit illusionist and Mr. Magoo is too kind to let on that his illusions don’t work on blind people. They’ve probably already rescued themselves. Worst case scenario, he’s probably using them to play bridge with his mother.” 

“Relax, Lew-Lew.” Barnes’ voice in her ear shot lightning directly to the base of her spine and the palms of her hands. She bit her lip and glanced over at Deadpool, who winked and bumped his booted ankle against hers. “Spiderman and Daredevil have gone up against this guy multiple times. If anything, Deadpool is over exaggerating his capabilities.”

Darcy hummed again, looking back down at the list and hoping the fall of her hair would hide her blush. “So probably the hardest thing will be finding an X-man for the selfie. Do either of you know if there are any in town now? It’s going to eat up a lot of travel time if we have to go all the way to the mansion.”

“We could probably throw a rock and hit an X-man at this point,” Deadpool commented. “There’s so many of them, and with all the retconning going on in movies and comics, it’s a safe bet that we’d hit someone who is or has been on one of their seventy million teams. I was even offered a spot on one of their teams once.” 

Silence. Barnes coughed awkwardly. “Yeah, so I think Storm is visiting Sue Richards right now.” The train rolled to a stop, admitting a new wave of passengers. It said something about the pure apathy of New Yorkers that most of them glanced at Deadpool- openly covered in various weaponry, having neglected to turn his holographic imager back on- and ignored him. It was truly a testament to the legendary Adams’ SEP field at work.

The car was packed when an elderly man managed to push his way on. Thick glasses magnified his eyes into an owlish gaze as he looked for an open seat. Deadpool immediately leapt from his seat, gesturing for the old man to take his place. Before the man could push his way through the crowded car, another person slid to take the empty seat. Darcy watched, amazed, as Deadpool leaned in close and whispered something in the stranger’s ear. Their complexion paled at an alarming rate, and they vacated the recently claimed seat just as the old man arrived. The elderly man sank into the seat with a relieved sigh, nodding to the costumed anti-hero in thanks.

Deadpool turned to them, and then after a theatrical search for a place to stand, threw himself into Barnes’ lap with a cheesy grin. “So, how you doin’ sugar pie? Is that jargon dated enough for you? Should I Google some more dated slang?”

“Please don’t,” Barnes said mildly, as though the sudden addition of Deadpool to his lap didn’t faze him. Hell, maybe it didn’t. He even wrapped an arm around the merc, holding him close as the train rocked. “What did you tell that person to make them clear off like that?”

“Oh, you know,” Deadpool waved his hand airily in the same motion as earlier. “Just that if they were going to take a mobility-impaired spot, I would make damn sure they earned it. With my katanas.” A brief pause. “I was going to cut his legs off at the knees.”

“No, no, I got it.” Darcy nodded, rolling her eyes. 

Deadpool patted his lap and leered at Darcy. “There’s still time before the next stop. I could cut off his legs and you could sit in my lap. We could all cuddle together to the sound of blood-curdling screams.”

“The most romantic sound in the world,” Barnes added dryly. 

Then the two troublemakers were staring at her with overly innocent expressions, as if they hadn’t just threatened a stranger with bodily harm. Well two- or rather, three- could play at that game.

Darcy smirked, bracing her arms on Deadpool’s upper thighs and using them to prop up her breasts. She reveled in the rush of success she felt when both men’s eyes immediately dropped downward. “All that trouble for little ol’ me? Aw, I always dreamed someone would dismember a stranger for me, ever since I was a little girl.” She reached up to lightly brush her fingertips along the gloved robo-hand that Barnes was using to hold Deadpool close. 

Pinned between them, Deadpool went suddenly, absolutely still. Even his normally expressive mask became curiously blank and Darcy held her breath, waiting to see how the situation would play out. Slowly, a smile creased the red and black mask, and he reached out to wrap a curly strand of hair around his fingers. “Me, too! Did you recreate femoral artery blood spatter arcs in your diary and-“

“Pull the arms off Barbie dolls!” The two answered in sync, resulting in Barnes thumping his head against Deadpool’s shoulder and shaking it hopelessly. 

\---..---

The question of finding an X-man became a moot point, as they ran into a crimson-eyed Cajun leaving a liquor store close to their subway stop. Barnes called it serendipitous, Deadpool called it an act of Deus ex Machina, and Darcy tried to decide if it was worth redirecting Remy’s attention to her eyes instead of her breasts.

“Of course I would adore helping out a lovely lady such as yourself.” Darcy smiled awkwardly as Remy bent and pressed his lips to her knuckles. “As long as her handsome escort does not mind?” The crimson eyes turned to Barnes, hovering behind her.

Oh no. Oh, hell no. Darcy felt her face pull tight into a scowl. She tried to relax by picturing her and Barnes laying on the beach at all the lovely islands described by the Beach Boys. Enter Deadpool wearing a Hawaiian shirt and lei over his costume (mental note: revisit later the fact that she has only ever met this man three times and has no idea who or what his civilian persona is) with a tray of drinks in coconut shells with tiny paper umbrellas. Darcy wasn’t quite sure how she felt about his intrusion on her personal daydream, but her instincts seemed to think it was a positive thing. As opposed to Remy’s disregard for her personal autonomy.

Suddenly, an absolutely devilish thought struck her. She consciously relaxed her body, letting thoughts of Barnes on a beach in a pair of wet swim trunks (and might as well be honest, Deadpool, too, though in his case it was swim trunks over his normal costume. Oh shit, she would actually be seeing that in real life soon when they hit the pool!) sunning himself in Aruba, Jamaica, or somewhere in the Bahamas. Eyes heavy-lidded and letting those thoughts swing her hips into a sultry walk, she stepped forward into Remy’s personal space.

“It would mean so much to me,” she looked up through her eyelashes and licked her bottom lip before biting it gently. “So, so much, if I could get this picture. Maybe we could even get some dinner together sometime?” She made sure to stress the singular pronouns, watching as his eyes flared with desire.

“ _Oui, oui, absolument._ ” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Okay, that accent wasn’t bad, and it felt almost as nice in his grasp as it had in Barnes’ earlier. Almost. “Literally nothing would make me happier at this moment than taking a picture with someone as beautiful as you.” If she was reading this situation with Barnes (or Deadpool) wrong, at least she had a good hookup opportunity with Remy. 

She giggled and faux-slapped his chest. “You flatterer, you. We need to get a picture with everyone in the team except the camera man.” Darcy pulled the camera out of her purse, but when Remy made to hand the camera to Deadpool, she shoved it in Barnes’ hands. If she was perfectly honest, this constant deferral to Barnes over Deadpool was annoying her just as much as the deferral to Barnes over her own personal choices. It seemed that given the chance, everyone would ignore him and after spending half a day with him, she still had no clue why.

So even though she had initially come up with the plan before Remy had opened his casually chauvinistic mouth, she felt no regret when she tried to communicate her idea to Deadpool with a combination of significant head movements and subtle hand gestures. 

Barnes looked like he might have caught on, but Deadpool was behind her (okay, him behind her was becoming a thing, and it was becoming way too hot for her own good) and she was left hoping that he would understand what to do at her signal.

“Ready, folks?” Barnes held the camera up, the lens focused on the three of them. Darcy pulled in close to Remy, making sure her red lips were breathing softly in his ear. She gently rested the fingers of her hand on the opposite cheek, humming softly. “On three. And one, two, three!

On ‘three’, Darcy simultaneously pulled Remy’s face inward for a kiss and ducked down so that kiss was with a red and black spandex mask instead of her own soft lips. Above her, Deadpool grabbed Remy’s head and pulled him in deeper while the camera in Barnes’ hands clicked away. She turned toward him in her half-crouched position and grinned widely, giving the camera a double thumbs-up.

Thankfully, the Cajun had a sense of humor. When he broke away from the kiss, his face was lit up with laughter. “ _Très bon, chère, très bon!_ ” 

Inwardly, Darcy breathed a huge sigh of relief. She had not been looking forward to a possible tussle between these three in a populated area. Fingers caught at her hand by her side, tangling among her own. She glanced over to see Deadpool grinning at her. When she looked over at Barnes, he had the same sort of soft look that she imagined lay beneath Deadpool’s mask. She returned his grin, gripping Deadpool’s hand tightly.

“Thanks, Remy. Not that you’re not totally hot, because you are. But I think that right now I have my hands full.” She looked at Deadpool’s hand in hers, then gave Barnes a bright smile. “Literally.”


	6. The Hulk, Elektra, and Ulysses Klaue once danced to Thriller together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [x] Dance in a public place  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to see Jennifer Gardner, Mark Ruffalo, and Andy Serkis dance to 'Thriller' [your wish has been granted](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TWIicd4iOV0).

“So we can actually take care of quite a few things here.”

The trio look up, and up, and up, to the giant ‘A’ decorating the skyscraper before them. They were completely out of place compared to the folks dressed in tailored business wear and fancy bespoke shoes. Darcy has dressed for comfort, Bucky for convenience, and Deadpool has completely abandoned the use of his holographic transmitter. The foot traffic around the tower gave them a wide berth, likely due to the number of visible weapons strapped to Deadpool’s person.

After a few seconds, Darcy’s neck started to hurt from the strain. She turned back to the scavenger hunt list, the next few items circled in a bright sparkly pink pen provided by Deadpool. “The lobby should count as a public space. Now we just have to agree what music to dance to.” She glanced over to Barnes, who shrugged.

“I imagine whatever you pick can’t be too difficult to learn.” He gave a small, slightly grim smile. “I used to be pretty quick at picking up the new dance steps back in the day.”

There was a brief moment of awkward silence, then Deadpool giggled. “Twerking.” 

Darcy started howling in laughter, while Barnes just looked confused—until Deadpool provided a brief demonstration after which his ears turned red and he growled “No fucking way.”

“There’s the Cupid Shuffle, or the Electric Slide.” Darcy added once her laughter had died down. “Those should both be fairly easy, since the steps are in the dance.” She looked at Barnes (or more specifically, his ass) and snorted, biting her finger to try and hold in the laughter. The attempt was only moderately successful.

“The Macarena?” Deadpool said. “Gangam Style?”

“How about the YMCA?” Darcy covered her mouth, her laughter resurging for a brief moment. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just can’t stop picturing it now.”

“Maybe for a private showing,” Barnes offered blandly, cutting off Darcy’s laughter like flipping a switch. He met her wide-eyed stare with remarkable aplomb even though red was creeping though his ears to his cheeks. After a minute, his gaze slid to Deadpool, who had (remarkably) remained silent. “We could make it a double booking?”

Darcy swallowed hard, feeling that same lightning tingle shooting through her spine and down to her knees. “I honestly think my ovaries just melted,” she said once she felt capable of speaking in something that wasn’t just hormonal groans.

“This conversation is wonderful. Absolutely wonderful, and I love everything about this, but,” Deadpool heaved a world-weary sigh, putting a hand on both their shoulders. “We do have a scavenger hunt to win and superheroes to rescue. I can’t believe you’re making me be the voice of reason! What is this world even coming to?”

“The voice of reason is the same one who convinced us to continue a scavenger hunt after a villain kidnapped half our team.” Barnes pointed out. “A villain who, according to you, is probably playing bridge, aka the worst game in the world with them. A decent villain would be playing pinochle.”

“Okay!” Darcy shook herself from the hormonal stupor. “I guess we could have Barnes hold the camera while we do one of the other dances. How about-“ She was interrupted by a black-gloved finger pressing up against her lips.

“Shhh, shoosh, shoosh. I know what dance we’re doing.” Deadpool nodded firmly. “I just remembered, this dance is practically a Marvel legend.” Barnes mouthed the word ‘Marvel?’ and frowned. Darcy shrugged. “It is the sacred dance that has been performed by Elektra, the Hulk, and Ulysses Klaue, and we absolutely need to perform this dance, right here, right now.”

“Which one is it?” Darcy asked through the finger still on her lips.

In response, Deadpool clasped his hands over his heart and started humming. After a few bars, Darcy started to grin. When he started singing, she jumped right in, to the befuddled amazement of Barnes.

_“It’s close to midnight, and something evil’s lurking in the dark.”_

“Yes, yes, yes!” Darcy reached out and pulled at the arm of a passerby, shoving their camera into their hands. “Can you film this for us for a few seconds?” Without waiting for a reply, she spun around and took position at Deadpool’s side, waving at Barnes to join them. “JARVIS, I know you have cameras out here, can we get the song cued up? Make sure it’s the version with Vincent Price!”

Hidden speakers generated a strong bass beat. Barnes watched Darcy and Deadpool move for a few seconds before joining in the fairly simple motions. While the moves changed often, they were fairly simple and easy to catch up with. 

And that’s how the Winter Soldier learned the Thriller dance.


	7. Dennis Nedry wants you to say the magic word.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [x] An aerial photo of the Stark Industries/Avengers tower

The first hurdle comes when JARVIS locks them out of the tower. 

The dance has left Darcy breathing a bit hard, but adrenaline has her grinning like a hyena. Deadpool was expounding on how the Thriller dance should be an official Avengers dance, like a secret handshake while Barnes provided the occasional dry comment, like the Zeppo to his verbal Harpo (Darcy considers herself to be the Groucho of the group). She reached out to pull open one of the doors to the tower, but they immediately locked under her hand. A video clip from Jurassic Park is projected onto the door before her, with Newman stuck in a loop repeating “uh-uh-uh!” over and over.

“JARVIS, what the hell?”

“My apologies, Miss Lewis. Ms. Potts has denied access to the tower during the scavenger hunt.” Thankfully, JARVIS cut off the annoying video before the more short-tempered members of the group tried to put their fist through the door. 

Darcy huffed a breath, blowing at the hair in her face. “Well we’re boned now. There’s no way to get that aerial photo without a flier in the group.”

“Challenge accepted!” Deadpool grabbed the camera from her hands and ‘poof’ed away.

“What the _what?_ ” Darcy looked over to Barnes, who was just as confused. “Did you know he could do that?” Barnes shook his head. “Is that his mutant power? Is that why the X-men want him so bad? I thought they had a teleporter already.”

“It’s new to me.” Barnes stepped forward and cautiously waved his hand through the space where Deadpool had stood, as if the mercenary had merely turned invisible instead of teleporting. Although either option was equally possible, she supposed. “I didn’t see anything like this from the footage of the bridge.”

“The bridge?” Darcy racked her brain trying to remember what Barnes was referencing. There had been a lot of bridge fights over the past few years. Bridge fights seemed to be a staple of superhero combat.

“I think you might have been visiting Asgard with Jane and Thor when it happened. Deadpool-” 

The small thrill of pleasure she felt at Barnes keeping track of her whereabouts disappeared on the same ‘poof!’ as Deadpool abruptly slammed into the concrete beside them.

“Augh,” he groaned, camera held straight out in what Darcy was sure was the only unbroken bone in his body. “Gravity, you heartless bitch. Here you go, sweet-D.”

She took a moment to breathe out a sigh of relief before taking the camera back. “Your nicknames are getting better,” she said, folding down to sit cross-legged beside him while she reviewed the photos. Somehow in the few seconds he had been gone, he had managed to fill up a quarter of the SD card’s memory.

“We got any keepers?” Barnes asked, squatting down next to her. “Or do we have to send him up again?”

Darcy glanced at Deadpool, wincing at the occasional awful crunch as broken bones realigned. Despite his good cheer, she was fairly sure that healing factor didn’t necessarily mean his injuries were pain-free. He had voluntarily subjected himself to the pain this time around, but that didn’t mean she was comfortable sending him up to do it all over again. 

(Sometimes she thought being self-sacrificing all too often resulted in forgetting that you could solve a problem without getting hurt.)

A picture popped up on the small screen; the top of Deadpool’s head covered the bottom third of the picture, but the top two-thirds had the tower perfectly framed. The rest were blurry attempts at selfies with the tower as Deadpool obviously fought gravity, wind, and the camera facing the wrong way. There was also a string of photos where it was obvious that he had fumbled the camera, and probably dropped it. Darcy sighed as she deleted the blurry photos. “We’ve got a good one, but for pete’s sake, next time use the wrist strap and you won’t drop it!”

“The what?” 

Both men watched, utterly dumbfounded, as she efficiently looped her wrist through the string attached to the camera and pulled it tight. She held her arm out, camera dangling safely at the end of her wrist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, Deadpool, use the wrist strap if you're going to be teleporting to the top of a skyscraper for photo ops. *shakes head*


	8. Choose your own remedial chaos theory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [x] A photo or video of the team diving into a pool while suited up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep trying to write this story in the present tense, so if you see a place where my tenses are off, please tell me.

Luckily, Pepper had enough forethought to provide duffel bags with the uniforms and a spare set of clothes. The missing members had just spare clothes in their bag, so they clearly wore theirs under their civilian clothes. 

None of the other spare clothes came close to fitting Deadpool, whose height wasn’t apparent until he stopped his energetic movements. Then it became apparent that he was slightly taller than Barnes, though his shoulder-to-hip ratio wasn’t as extreme as Steve’s. However, there was an obvious discomfort when Barnes suggested the merc wear his clothes. The eventual solution was to visit a laundromat and dry the uniform while utilizing the holographic imager to avoid any public indecency charges.

Barnes was in full Winter Soldier regalia, and if she was completely honest with herself, he was just a smidge more frightening than Deadpool, despite the lack of obvious weaponry. Although the list item called for full costume, both men had removed any weaponry that would be affected by jumping in the water. She didn’t fool herself into thinking that either one of them were completely disarmed, though. If nothing else, they both were deadly forces of nature, armed or unarmed. 

Even if Deadpool kept trying to persuade Barnes to cover his robotic arm with plastic wrap.

(It’s absolutely waterproof, he assured them. Tested in the Potomac and everything.)

Darcy set the camera on a nearby surface, lining the viewfinder so it had the best line of sight on where they planned to jump in. “Okay, let’s get this taken care of before someone calls the cops on us.” 

Suddenly, strong arms scooped her into a bridal carry. From behind, so of course it’s Deadpool. “You got the timer set on that camera, Dee-licious?” She nodded. “Then hit that button and let’s go, baby girl!”

“Ix-nay on the baby girl, that’s just creepy!” The last syllable ended on a shriek as Deadpool leapt into the water with Darcy in his arms, a whoop of joy indicating that Barnes was not far behind. She heard the click, click, click of the camera and had enough time to squeeze her eyes shut and hold her breath before the water covered her head in a cold rush.

They shifted around while underwater so that when they surface, her thighs were wrapped around his ribs and he was not so subtly groping her ass. Darcy chose to let it go because over his head she could see Barnes silently advancing on them. The combination of his goggles and his face mask were similar to the cold eyes of a shark. 

“Is someone playing the Jaws theme?” Deadpool followed her pointing finger to see Barnes gliding though the water. Then before she can blink, one arm was pinning her to his chest and the other was powering them through the water toward the shallow end of the pool. She attached herself to him like a leech, her laughter ringing bright over the water. Once he reached the very edge of the shallow end, he pulled free from Darcy, leaving her stretched on the tips of her toes just to keep her head above water. It was only for a moment though, then she was surging out of the water as Deadpool grabbed her by the waist and set her on his shoulders. “Get him!”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Darcy called, leaning over to one side to splash water at the advancing Barnes while Deadpool splashed on the other side. In response, Barnes dove underwater. Darcy grabbed Deadpool’s head and leaned over and met Deadpool’s eyeplates. “Tell my wife I slept with her sister.” She said, straight-faced, before Barnes snagged Deadpool’s leg and tugged, sending them both toppling underwater.

They resurfaced to the sound of sirens in the distance. That, combined with the crowd of bathing-suit clad civilians staring at them behind the fence bordering the pool, reminded Darcy that she had arrived with two menacing-looking characters bristling with weapons. The police might give Barnes a pass, but she doubted the same courtesy would be extended to Deadpool. “I think we’ve worn out our welcome. Time to go, gentlemen.”

\---..---

It took a bit of luck and a couple of close calls, but they managed to make it to the laundromat without anyone getting arrested. The laundromat was miraculously empty, and Darcy hoped it would remain so while their clothes are drying.

Deadpool had already disrobed and thrown his clothes into a dryer by the time Darcy finished changing in the bathroom. She added her wet clothes to his before taking a seat next to him. His imager was active, which meant that she was sitting next to the virtual clone of a famous celebrity that was hiding a fully grown man in…. whatever he wore underneath the spandex. She snickered silently at the thought.

Barnes emerged from the other bathroom and added his wet uniform to the clothes in the dryer before starting the load. He flopped into the chair on the other side of her in a loose sprawl. 

Darcy opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sound of her own stomach rumbling with a ferocity normally associated with savannah lions. “Okay,” she said instead, “if I’m hungry, you guys must be starving. One of us could go get food while we wait for the clothes to dry.”

_To send Bucky Barnes for food, select[Chapter 9.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6900541/chapters/16103308) _

_To send Darcy Lewis for food, select[Chapter 10](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6900541/chapters/16103407)_

_To see the most probable reality, select[Chapter 11](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6900541/chapters/16444396)_


	9. Barnes fetches the food.

“I’ll go,” Barnes said. “I think I saw a Mexican place nearby.”

“There’s always going to be a Mexican place nearby.” Deadpool stretched out in the chair, crossing his arms behind his head. “It’s narrative causality. My love for chimichangas is famous, therefore; chimichangas.”

“Of course,” Darcy responded dryly, rolling her eyes as she handed Barnes some money from the envelope. “It has absolutely nothing to do with the nearly 2.3 million Hispanic or Latino people in New York City.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re reciting from Wikipedia?” Deadpool asked rhetorically, his question completely ignored by the other two.

Barnes rolled his eyes and plucked the bills from her hand. “Any requests?” He asked Darcy, who shrugged.

“I don’t really care, so long as it’s food.” She waved energetically at the departing Barnes. “Goodbye, smoochie-poo! I miss you already!” The door closed on his snort of laughter. She turned back to Deadpool. “You are absolutely not allowed to call me ‘smoochie-poo.’”

“Of course not,” Deadpool agreed. “That’s Bucky’s nickname now. All forms filled out in triplicate and filed with the county court office.”

The question of what’s underneath the imager was still at the back of her mind and as she opened her mouth, she could feel the words on the tip of her tongue. But despite the sexual innuendo and the groping, she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to take that step, yet. If she let herself think too much about it, it started to feel like the rumblings of an avalanche. She sat there with her mouth open, trying to find an appropriate question to ask that didn’t sound like she wanted to pull him into the bathroom and jump his bones. 

“What’s your name?” As the words left her mouth, she realized she didn’t really know much about him besides his propensity to keep turning up like a bad penny. “I mean, your real name,” she clarified when Thom Cruz responded with a skeptical eyebrow. “I’ve seen you at two parties but this is the only time we’ve ever really sat down and talked to each other like normal, semi-functional adults.”

“Oh!” Deadpool gave a short laugh. “You don’t know the origin story! Wow, I’m hurt, Lew-Lew! You never tried to properly stalk me? Never friended me on Facebook and stalked all my posts? Never Googled my name?”

Darcy snorted and shook her head. “Like I said, I’ve seen you exactly twice. It takes three times before I can properly get my Edward Cullen on. By the way, ‘Lew-Lew’?” She gave a thumbs up and nodded her approval. “Acceptable. But otherwise, I am a _tabula rasa._ ” She spread her hands out and beckoned at him. “Enscribe me, bro.”

“Wade Wilson.” He held out a hand for her to shake. The texture of his skin felt odd, like it was heavily calloused. He quickly drew it back before she could comment on it. “So you want to hear the origin story?” At her nod, he delivered a brief run-down of the cancer and subsequent experimentation in the Weapon X program.

Darcy mulled over the explanation in silence before she finally said; “I don’t believe you. You’re not polite enough to be Canadian.” Her attempt at levity earned a short, harsh laugh. “So the imager is, what, to keep local authorities off your back? Because you had no problem walking around in full costume earlier.”

“Well…” Deadp- Wade shifted uneasily, his entire body tense. “Yes and no?” He seemed uneasy, unlike the aggressive confidence from earlier. 

“C’mon,” she leaned in, poking at his shoulder with a sly grin. The hologram of Thom Cruz wore a t-shirt, but her fingertip met that same calloused texture she’d felt previously from shaking his hand. “What’s under the suit?” Curious, she started to lightly stroke the skin of his shoulder. “Does a Wade go boxers, briefs, or commando?” Stroking down his arm, she could feel the muscle under heavily textured skin. “By the way, that jaw line totally doesn’t suit you.”

“How would you know?” His voice sounded tight, strangled. He was staring at her hand on his arm. “You haven’t even seen my face.”

“I’ve seen you in the mask. This face has more of a square shape than your real one.” She scooted forward in her seat, reaching out with her other hand toward his face. He jerked away for a brief moment before allowing her to touch. The same calloused texture met her questing fingers. She cupped his cheek in her hand, stroking her thumb over his cheekbone. “I’ll wait until you feel comfortable. You can show me your real face whenever you’re ready.” Her hand stroked down his face, her thumb brushing across his lips. “Wade.” 

He exhaled softly when she said his name, his breath rushing over her thumb. She felt the soft flick of his tongue, then he was pulling her thumb into his mouth with a strong, wet suction. Her lips parted on a sigh and she leaned forward, raising her other hand from his shoulder to caress the back of his neck. His gaze never left hers, but it was the gaze of a hologram, empty like blank doll eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her forehead into his shoulder instead of trying to meet that dead-eyed gaze.

He sucked harder on her thumb, then his tongue was pressing against the sensitive skin at the center of her palm. She arched her back, trying to press closer, but the arm rest separating their seats dug into her stomach. As if he sensed her problem, he pulled her over to straddle his lap, pressing them together from shoulder to hip. He was hard, and with a little bit of rearranging, his hands were gripping her hips firmly, his erection pushed the seam of her jeans into her clit in the best of ways. She mouthed at his ear, letting her breaths grow heavy across skin that she hoped was still sensitive.

Wade released her thumb with a pop, moving to capture her mouth. She complied with a breathless laugh, moving both hands to cup the base of his skull and rub over his scalp. 

“Why won’t you look at me,” he asked after they pulled apart for a breath and noticed her tightly closed eyes.

“It’s not you.” Darcy shook her head, burying it in the crook of his neck and nipping at the tendons there while he groaned. “It’s not your face.” 

He groaned again, a helpless sound. “Fine. You’ve gone all Laura Dern on my face, you might as well see the damage.” One hand pushed between them to press at some buttons on his utility belt, then Darcy was face-to-face with the full Wade Wilson experience.

Darcy was silent for a long moment, leaning back in his lap and looking him over from head-to-toe. The covering of welts and scars was certainly surprising, but not completely unexpected. She had already felt the odd texture under her fingertips. She glanced downward and smirked a bit. Boxers with bright yellow duckies, though the thickness that had pressed against her so marvelously was starting to flag.

She dropped her hands from his neck to the elastic band of his boxers, pressing lightly against the ridges of his hipbones and the thick muscle laid over them. Her fingertips drifted north, brushing against the calloused skin just hard enough to feel the muscle beneath them. Her fingers ended their travels by caressing the bare skin of his scalp as she leaned in until their lips barely touched.

“I just want you to know,” she said, reveling in the press of his strong chest against her breasts, the renewed strength in the grip of his hands on her hips, the way he couldn’t help the relentless pulse of his hips against hers when she spoke, “I forgive you.” She pushed into him, their tongues rubbing together, “for being Canadian.” 

Wade laughed, an open easy laugh that she ate up as she surged against him again. It was the first time he had truly relaxed after he turned off the imager, and she couldn’t help the smile that pulled at her lips as she ran her hands over his firmly muscled body.

The tingling of the bell attached to the laundromat’s front door barely registered. Darcy only noticed they had company when she pulled away to take a breath and saw Barnes sitting next to them, his blue eyes a laser focus switching between their swollen lips. 

Wade caught Barnes’ gaze and his hips jerked; Darcy’s breathing gave an audible hitch as Wade’s renewed erection pressed against her over sensitized labia and clitoris. 

“We could,” she pulled away from Wade’s mouth and threw her head back, leaning fully into him. “We could finish this here, maybe make another load of laundry to do and sit here nude while that one finishes, or…” One hand still cupping the base of Wade’s skull, she reached out with the other to thread her fingers through Barnes’ hair, using it to pull his lips to hers. “We could take our food and find someplace that isn’t a public area so we can avoid scarring some poor person for life if they walk in on us.”


	10. Darcy leaves to fetch some food.

“Ugh, fine,” Darcy groaned, after a game of rock-paper-scissors sent her to hunt down food for the three of them. “I assume that a healing factor means you probably eat as much as the Super Soldier twins?”

Deadpool gave a helpless shrug. “Do they eat a metric fuckton? Because that’s how much I can eat, if it’s there.” 

Darcy nodded firmly. “Right. Super-soldier portion it is.” She gave a loose salute to the two men as she exited the laundromat.

There’s a single chair between Deadpool-no, Wade. After what they’d been through so far, it seemed only fair to call him by his given name. There was an empty chair between him and Wade, but it seemed like an canyon. 

Bucky felt a connection with Darcy because she had that softness hiding the hard edges he knew she was capable of. But she hadn’t been broken, so she took the softness in her, made it a part of her. She could smooth her hard edges with a smile and a pithy remark. But Wade knew what it was like to be broken. Barnes could feel the jagged edges underneath the red and black spandex, in the way he could use one bullet to kill three men at once. Wade’s sarcasm was dry, sharpened on blood and tears. 

Barnes slid into the empty chair next to a Wade who tensed when his personal space was violated. Wade’s personal space was large, to the point where it felt like Bucky was scaling a mountain side just to be seen.

Here he could be Bucky, even though when he was with Darcy he could only be Barnes. He knew a little about the other man’s history, knew that Wade also understood what it meant to be a weapon wielded by others. 

“Hey.” 

Bucky looked over to see Wade, sans imager, staring intently at him. He knew about the other man’s scarred visage, wasn’t surprised to see it suddenly revealed.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay with this.” Wade gestured at his mostly nude and heavily scarred body, clad only in a pair of boxers decorated with grinning yellow ducks. “I don’t want you to make a decision you regret later.”

He wished he had the right words. How Wade’s scars didn’t matter. The men he had seen scarred by shrapnel. The attempts at reconstructive surgery when the only option available was boiled leather and twine. Soldiers that smiled with half a face. Even before his time with Hydra, war had been a vicious, brutal affair. Wade had nothing on them. 

Instead, Bucky surged against Wade, using his hands and his mouth to attack Wade’s insecurity. “You wanted to make sure I’m okay with you wearing boxers?” He tugged at the elastic band of Wade’s underwear. “To be honest, I prefer boxer-briefs. It’s a miracle of modern innovation.”

Wade grabbed Bucky’s hand, pulling it back to the waistband of his boxers. “You saying you want to buy my undies from now on?” The mercenary breathed against Bucky’s mouth with a quick flip of his tongue against the other’s lips. 

Bucky gave a short laugh before burying his hands under Wade’s underwear and grabbing two handfuls of the generous flesh of his ass. When he pulled Wade into him, there was a gratifying slide of erections that made him moan. “Only rubber ducks from now on,” he swore, mouthing at the tendons that stood out on Wade’s neck.

A stuttered gasp from the door had Bucky looking up into Darcy’s desire-blackened eyes. “Hmm,” he hummed into Wade’s neck, mouthing at the tendons there. “It looks like there’s someone else who might have an opinion.” He could feel Darcy pressing into him from behind, pushing him into Wade’s personal space. 

“Honey,” Darcy brushed soft lips against Wade’s cheekbone, then pressed her face to his. “Oh honey, did you think I didn’t care?” She seemed to take his scarred visage in stride as she caressed his torso. “Rubber ducks are not your style. If you’re going to go novelty briefs, you need to go with chili peppers or hearts.”


	11. What most likely happened, or Wade has an active imagination.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No scavenger items found in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still haven’t seen Civil War. We’ll call this setting a time about a year or two after Barnes is given amnesty and allowed to return to the U.S.
> 
> Thank you everyone for the kudos and comments! I feel like I might be saying that every chapter. <3 <3 <3

Darcy’s face drew up into a pout as she looked from her losing hand of Rock-Paper-Scissors-Lizard-Spock. “All right, I’ll get the food. But I’m going with the cheapest of the cheap, dollar menu stuff to save up our money.” 

“I should probably go with you.” Barnes shoved his hands into his pockets. “We’ve already lost two people to a random supervillain attack and been assaulted on the subway. It probably isn’t the best idea to send a dame-“ he coughed at Darcy’s narrowed eyes- “er, defenseless-“ another cough at her gimlet-eyed stare- “do you want help carrying the food?”

After a brief moment (mostly because it was entertaining to see the traditionally stoic man fidgeting nervously) she nodded. “I could probably use an extra hand.”

All three of them paused and glanced at Barnes’ left arm.

Darcy cleared her throat. “Awkward sauce. Anyhow, let’s head out.” She looked over to Deadpool, who waved a hand in their general direction, already sprawled out in the cheap plastic chair. According to the holographic imager, it looked as though he was settling in for a nap. Darcy hefted her purse higher on her shoulder and motioned for Barnes to proceed. In return, he held the door open and bowed slightly, ceding the way to her.

As soon as the door closed on the tingling entrance bell, Darcy turned to Barnes, tucking her arm in his as they headed toward the nearest fast food restaurant. “Tell me everything you know about him. This is literally the third time I’ve met him and I know nothing!”

“We kinda run in different circles, babe. I don’t know much more than you.” 

Darcy gave him her best puppy-dog eyes, adding a slight quiver to her lower lip for that extra plaintive touch.

Barnes sighed. “Deadpool: former Special Forces, now freelance mercenary. Full name is Wade Winston Wilson. Preferred weapons: pistols and katanas. Special abilities: advanced healing factor, enhanced speed, strength, and agility, possible teleportation. Recent activity resulted in 41 dead, the majority of which occurred in two separate incidents approximately three months apart. X-men have shown interest in recruiting this individual. Recruitment attempts have been met with varying levels of violence; mentioning X-men or mutants may result in unnecessary escalation of the situation. Do not directly engage individual unless absolutely necessary.” His recitation was monotone, almost robotic as he recited what was clearly a summary of some file. Afterwards, he looked at Darcy, who was frowning. “Now you know everything I do.”

“Hmm.” Darcy chewed on her lip, less than satisfied by the answer. “It doesn’t really explain why no one wants anything to do with him. We’ve spent the entire morning with him and I haven’t seen any kind of behavior that would warrant the near complete ostracization by the others.”

“Well,” Barnes shifted, putting his arm around her shoulder instead and pulling her tight against him. He couldn’t stifle a small grin when she snuggled up to his side, wrapping her arm around his waist. “It was before my time,” he glanced down and they shared a smile at the phrase, “but from what I gather, he’s… chaotic. Unstable. He would work for whoever had the most green, didn’t matter what the job was. But even then he’d turn on you if the wind blew the wrong way.”

There was a brief pause in the conversation as they arrived at the burger joint and ordered a plethora of cheap fast food. Darcy immediately resumed the conversation as soon as they left. “Is he still like that?” Sure, there had been periodic moments of violence, like the subway or the fight on the beach, but so far none of the interactions had been fatal to any party.

“I guess a few years ago he vowed to go on the straight and narrow.” Barnes pulled the share of food she insisted on carrying out of her hands and tugged her against his side again. This time, she tucked her hand into his back pocket so their hips bumped as they walked. He did a smooth change-step and shortened his stride to match hers. “Folks think he’s still as fickle as ever, but I can’t say that I agree. As far as I can tell, nowadays he matches his moral code to the supe he’s with. Kills with the killers, doesn’t if they don’t.” 

There was silence for a few moments, then Barnes spoke again, glancing at Darcy out of the corner of his eye. “If you want to, now would be a good time to call off this scavenger hunt and head back to the tower. We’ve only got his word that Matt and Peter are still safe with this Mysterio fella.”

Darcy ruminated on this, her gaze focused on their feet moving in tandem as they walked. “I think I trust him,” she said finally. “He wants to be a part of us- not us, us, not saying there is an us, us, which I’m also not saying no to, but us as the Avengers and associated company, us. He wants to be a part of our crowd so much that I don’t think he would actively risk anyone’s safety. He would know that anything like that would be a one-way ticket to a permaban. Not just from the Avengers, but from the superhero community in general.”

“Fair enough.” The jingle of the laundromat’s entry bell provided a cheery counterpoint to their somber conversation. Inside, Deadpool snorted and jerked awake. He rose to his feet, simultaneously rubbing the sleep from his eyes and readjusting himself in whatever he wore under the holographic imager. The mercenary watched Darcy and Barnes unpack the food. A loud gasp brought them to a halt.

“No Mexican food?!” Deadpool’s focus shifted rapidly between them and the cornucopia of empty calories. “What travesty is this? Where are the chimichangas? Chimichangas always happen when food comes up!”

“But you didn’t ask for any.” Darcy said slowly, a frown creasing her brow. “No one requested a specific type of food so we just went to the closest place.”

Deadpool blew out a long sigh and slapped his forehead. “My fault, I just assumed that it would happen. Apparently some character clichés don’t need to happen in every story.”

“Er, okay.” Darcy handed him a burger. She and Barnes watched, enthralled, as the burger disappeared an inch from the imager, followed by chewing motions. By watching the food as he ate, she could tell exactly where the imaging field kicked in.

Deadpool stopped in mid-chew, staring back at them. “Wha?” He asked through a mouthful of food, though the mouth of the simulated image of ‘Thom Cruz’ was empty. 

“Are you naked?”

Barnes spit out his food at Darcy’s question. Deadpool wiggled his eyebrows and grinned. “You wanna touch it and find out?” Darcy immediately reached into his lap, only for her hand to be slapped away as Deadpool gave a high-pitched yelp and leapt out of his seat. That prompted an immediate coughing fit, which Barnes attempted to help along by thumping his back. Once the food cleared from his throat, he stared wide-eyed at the unrepentant Darcy. “Jeez, D-Lew, buy me dinner first!”

“I think I kind of did,” she grinned, motioning at the fast food containers littering the table. “Barnes told me your name is Wade. Can I call you Wade?”

“Just don’t call me late for dinner,” he joked, but his voice was noticeably weak and he hovered in a half-crouched position, his hands held protectively over his groin. “What else did Bucky Bear tell you?”

Darcy shrugged and took a bite of her food. She waited until she had fully chewed and swallowed her food before answering. “Not a lot. Your name, which I didn’t know, and that you can heal and teleport, which I did know.”

“There’s not a lot of concrete data in your file,” Barnes added. “A lot of hearsay and unconfirmed events. Basically, your name, your weapons, and that for some reason Xavier really wants your ass.”

“It is a fine looking ass.” Wade turned and shook it in their direction, jumping away when Darcy moved as if to pinch it. “Girl, you are dangerous. I’m going to sit over here.” He sat across the table from her, next to Barnes. The trio ate in a companionable silence. Once he was finished, Wade leaned back in his chair, rubbing his stomach. “Man, I couldn’t eat another bite. Unless Mommy Mysterio made peanut butter cookies. Seriously, those things are absolutely to die for. She even puts the Hershey’s Kisses in the middle. So good!” He kissed his fingers in a gesture of appreciation.

Quick as a whip, Barnes slid his hand into Wade’s lap, high on the thigh. As Wade stared in shock, his fingers slipped upward, until he met soft cotton. “Boxers,” he told Darcy, meeting the astonished gaze of an Oscar nominee and Golden Globe winner. “Feels like it, anyway.”

Darcy blew a raspberry, slouching back in her seat. “Whatever, you don’t need an imager for that. Dudes walk around in shorts with no shirt all the time.”

Wade fidgeted, grabbing Barnes’ fingers though he didn’t move them away. “There’s… other reasons,” he muttered, looking away. Barnes, having felt the roughly textured skin of his thigh, said nothing, only tightened his grip briefly in acknowledgement of the other man’s desire to remain hidden.


	12. Short and Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [x] A photo of bathroom graffiti  
> [x] A bottle of Asguardian mead  
> [x] One of Coulson's collectible cards  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. I’m also not fully caught up on Agents of SHIELD, so I don’t know exactly what Coulson’s status is now. We’ll say he’s doing liaison type things for the Avengers now, because I like that head canon.

The holographic imager meant that Wade could put his newly dried costume on without exposing anything. While he got dressed, Barnes grabbed the camera from Darcy, along with a sharpie from her purse. “Be right back,” he told her with a roguish grin, twirling the marker around his fingers.

Fully costumed, Wade slouched in the seat next to her. Darcy hummed an aimless noise, turning to face him. “Can I see your face?” Immediately his whole body tensed, his head whipping around to meet her gaze with his white eye shields. “I get that your civilian persona is a secret. Hell, it took me nearly a year before Spiderman would unmask near me. But I don’t want to pass you in the street and not know who you are.”

Wade uttered a short, rueful laugh. “Trust me, baby girl. No way you’d pass me in the street and not react.”

“Still hating on baby girl,” she muttered, accepting the diversion for the time being. Barnes emerged from the men’s restroom, a half smile on his face which was as good as a full-blown grin. He handed the camera and marker to her. She pulled up the most recent picture to see Stark’s phone number written on the gray metal of a bathroom stall next to the phrase “For a good time call”

“An oldie, but a goodie.” Darcy grinned, tucking both items away in her purse. She wasn’t truly worried about any random calls to the number-JARVIS would be able to filter out those calls from ones that were really important. “Let’s get that mead and knock another quick one off our list. We’ll need to go outside for this one.” Leading her merry duo of dangerous men, Darcy left the laundromat and walked to the center of a mostly empty parking lot.

“Heimdall! I need a favor, my bestie golden dude,” she shouted at the sky. “My companions and I are on a hunt for rare items and here on Midgard one of the rarest items is Asgardian mead. Can you help me school some arrogant princes who shall not be named and show that I’m the coolest chick around?”

The sky flashed, a brief aurora of rainbow hues. Darcy grinned and gave the men at her side a thumbs up. “Looks like we’re good to go. We can keep going, and my man Heimdall should send us some mead when he can.”

\---..---

For some reason, two heavily armed men (and one disarmingly cute former intern) triggers all kinds of alarms when trying to enter the SHIELD building where Coulson is currently working. There was a tense stand-off where clearly nervous security guards were trying to make Barnes and Wade remove their weapons while Wade made inappropriate jokes and Barnes just stared at the hapless guards with a coldness borne from the Arctic Circle. Any attempts Darcy made to diffuse the situation at best only prolonged the stalemate between all parties. 

“I understand you’re here to call in a favor from Ms. Potts?”

The calm voice rang through the open room and Darcy breathed a sigh of relief. “Agent Coulson,” she said, turning to face the bland-looking agent. 

He smiled and nodded to her. “Hello, Ms. Lewis. We anticipated your arrival, but the documentation sent to us doesn’t match your party. I’m sure you can understand that we had some concerns over the discrepancy.”

Darcy smiled, relieved at the sight of a familiar face amid the hostilities. “We had an unexpected personnel change.” The familiar language of bureaucracy tripped off her tongue. “We tried to rush the paperwork through, but I guess we got here before it did. If I recall correctly though, Mr. Barnes here should be able to escort him anyway, right?” She smiled brightly at Agent Coulson, wondering if he would try to call her bluff.

“Of course, I understand.” Agent Coulson returned her smile. “So sorry about the delay. Tammy’s the one in charge of processing security claims, but today’s her birthday. We had a short ceremony with her favorite pineapple upside down cake. There should be some leftovers if you want any?”

“No thank you,” Darcy nodded, recognizing the duress word hidden in the seemingly casual ramblings. “I’m afraid I’m allergic to pineapple.” She gave the reply for ‘all is clear’ as she met Agent Coulson’s gaze openly. “We just need to pick up the package that Ms. Potts has for us and we’ll be on our way.”

“Very well.” Agent Coulson pulled out a plain white envelope and offered it to her. “Please take the utmost care with this item and understand that I will address any damage-“ he narrowed his eyes and his voice dropped almost a full octave- “personally. Any damage. At all.” Then a sudden smile bloomed across his face and he nodded to them. “Please let me know if there is anything else you need.”

“Um.” Darcy took the envelope with a brittle smile and shaking hands. “Thank you. This should be it. Thanks.”

Agent Coulson smiled and nodded again before taking his leave. Darcy tucked the envelope, contents unseen, in her purse, heaving a loud sigh before she turned to her partners. “Shall we go?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut coming up next!


	13. Clowns of the left of him, jokers to the right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All’s fair in love and scavenger hunts. (Introducing another team with at least Sharon and Clint.)
> 
> [x] Entire team "I can't believe we all fit in here!" photo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, smut.

“Darcy!” A smiling blonde woman hailed their group as they passed by an open door on their way out. She rushed over to the other woman’s side, exchanging a hug with her and nodding at Barnes. Wade twiddled his fingers in greeting. “Um, hi. Who are you? Where are Matt and Peter?”

“Hi, Sharon.” Darcy smiled, her mind working rapidly as she tried to come up with a viable excuse for Wade’s presence. They hadn’t expected to run into another team. “The other guys had to take off, there was a small… altercation. Crime never sleeps, y’know?” She chuckled weakly, hoping Sharon wouldn’t dig further. “Deadpool offered to step in until they finished cleaning up. How’s your team been doing?”

“Oh, good, good,” Sharon said vaguely, staring suspiciously at Wade. “Clint decided to ignore the info packet and sneak into Agent Coulson’s office for our card. I’m going to give him a few more minutes before telling him about Pepper’s agreement.”

Barnes shifted slightly, moving Sharon’s attention from Wade to him. “Heard anything from the others?”

“Here and there. Apparently Steve and Thor’s groups keep getting stopped for autographs. How about you?”

“Nope, nobody’s been chasing us down for autographs.” Darcy replied, purposely being obtuse. “Which they’re totally missing out on because we are clearly made of awesome.” 

Any further conversation was cut off by an excited Wade yelling “Hey guys! Look at what I found!” They followed his voice to a seemingly empty store room.

“Wade?” Darcy stepped forward into the empty room, Barnes and Sharon following.

The trunk next to them popped open, spitting forth a red and black masked deviant, arms outstretched to grab at Darcy. She shrieked and jumped back, but Wade’s progress had already been halted by two hand guns pressed against his forehead. Barnes sighed and stepped back, holstering his weapon. After a moment’s pause, Sharon did the same.

“You complete and utter douchnozzle.” Darcy stepped forward far enough to whack the laughing mercenary on the arm. “What the hell?”

“I found this empty trunk; it looks big enough for the three of us. We could knock another thing off the list before we head back out.” He laid down on the bottom of the trunk, holding his arms out and making grabby motions at them. It did look large enough for the three of them to fit, though it would be tight. “We’re all friends here, right?”

“I can take the picture, if you’re quick about it,” Sharon offered. “But then I have to go rescue Clint from wherever he’s gotten himself stuck at.”

“Thank you!” Darcy handed the camera to the other woman as Barnes slid into the trunk. She set her purse down on the floor and climbed in after him, so the three of them were layered with Wade bearing all of their weight. “Here we go!” She pulled her hair to the side so the men below her could clearly be seen.

Sharon looked at them through the viewfinder, then lowered the camera, frowning. “I’m pretty sure you all have to fit entirely inside the container for it to count.” She cleared her throat and motioned at her chest.

Darcy compared the edge of the trunk to her breasts and sighed. “Oh for the love of Pete. Okay, give us a minute.”

“I think if you all lay on your sides, you should fit,” Sharon offered helpfully. She watched them shift around, then smiled and raised the camera again. “Perfect.” The shutter clicked, followed by the lid of the trunk falling shut on them.

Darcy blinked at the sudden darkness. “Sharon?” She called, thumping her fist against the side of the trunk. “Sharon?”

Light streamed in through a crack small enough for her purse and the camera to fit through. Barnes pushed himself up, but a heavy ‘thump’ on the lid pushed it right back down. Then all three of them heard locks snapping into place.

“I am very sorry about this, Lady Darcy.” Thor’s voice rumbled through the walls of the container. “’Tis done in the spirit of friendly competition. I trust you will be able to free yourself ere the hunt is over.”

“’Sides,” Clint added, humor evident in his voice. “We’re letting you keep the swag you’ve collected so far. It’s only fair.”

“You mean Thor made you,” Darcy grumbled under her breath. One of the traitors knocked twice on the trunk, then they heard the faint sound of the door closing. “Jokes on them, though. Wade, can you get us out of here?”

“With my magical wishing powers?” Wade snorted. “I think you have me mixed up with somebody else, honey bun.”

“You were able to teleport earlier,” Barnes pointed out. “Why can’t you do that now? Does your mutant power have a daily limit?”

“Mutant power?” Wade sounded completely baffled. Darcy’s heart sank. “No, no, no. That’s from a doohickey on my wrist.” The hand on her ass squeezed the plump flesh. “That one. And I can’t program it in the dark. We’ll have to figure out another way out.”

“Ugh. I am going to kill Sharon after this is all over.” Darcy let her head thump against the bottom of the trunk. Barnes pulled her closer, tight enough to make it difficult to breathe. She gave a croak of protest, but he was moving his arm up to fold it so that she could rest her head on the crook of his elbow. “Thanks.” From the feel of it, it was his metal arm; so much for punching their way out. 

Her purse suddenly grew just a slight bit heavier. She shifted her legs and shoved the purse into the corner of the trunk, resulting in the audible ‘clink’ of glass. The movement pushed someone’s tree trunk thigh between hers, just high enough to be potentially interesting. She opened her mouth to make some smart-ass comment, but was interrupted by Wade squeezing her ass again.

“Smoochie-poo, you doing okay there?” Wade asked quietly. The three of them were pressed together shoulder to chest, and Darcy realized suddenly how tense Barnes was.

The other man gave a brief shake of his head. “I still don’t do well with tight spaces.” His voice was terse and the arm around Darcy’s back tightened briefly before he forced himself to relax. She shifted as close as she could, raising her hand in the small amount of space available to grip his shoulder. The sound of fabric on fabric resonated in the small space as Wade rubbed at his forearm.

Darcy tilted her face up to his so that their breaths mingled. “Close your eyes,” she said softly, rubbing her thumb on his collarbone. “Picture where you are going to go with all of Stark’s money. Relax and breathe slowly. That’s where we are right now.”

“I don’t know where to go.” Barnes’ voice was tight with frustration. “I was gonna just sit at home for two weeks.”

“That’s a crying shame,” Wade growled, the noise rumbling through Barnes’ chest into Darcy. They both shivered. “Where were you going to go, Lew-Lew?”

“Beach Boys island tour,” she responded, moving her hand up to Barnes’ neck and resting her thumb against his thundering pulse. “Aruba, Jamaica, et cetera, et cetera, all the way to Kokomo.” Wade started humming the song, nuzzling his masked face against her fingers. “Sit in the sun with a cold drink on one of those beaches where swimsuits are optional and just enjoy all the eye candy.” They felt a shudder rock him from head to toe. “Can you picture that, James? Feel the sun shining on you? It’s certainly warm enough in here.”

Someone groaned at the description. Darcy giggled, sliding her thigh higher to test the effect her words had on him. “Why James, is that a gun in your pants or are you just happy to see me?”

James chuckled. “Sweetheart, I’m pretty sure you know that ain’t a pistol. But you keep talkin’ like that and it’s liable to go off anyway.” Wade sniggered at the horrible pun. Darcy grinned. She’d definitely succeeded at distracting him, as well as taking a step further in wherever this odd relationship was going. “’Sides,” James added, “Wade’s had three guns and a cock pushing at me pretty much since we first stepped into this thing.”

Wade gave a smug laugh, arching his hips and pushing James into Darcy. The other two both groaned. “I apologize for nothing.” He moved his hand from James’ arm, squeezing it between James and Darcy and fiddling with the button of the other man’s jeans. “You cats ready to get jiggy with it?”

“Na na na na, na na na,” James sang the chorus before closing the scant space between them and kissing Darcy on the teeth as she laughed. “Gloves off, though. I don’t want chafing from the leather.”

She giggled again, then Wade was shifting, pulling her closer to them so the leg between her thighs pushed high and tight against her (tight? Everything was so gods-damned tight in this thing it was getting hard to breathe!). Then a rough, calloused hand was shoving up under her shirt to cup her breast through her bra. The other returned to James, deftly unfastening the button fly and digging in. 

“Fuck,” Darcy muttered into James’ mouth as Wades knuckles pressed the seam of her jeans firmly against her clit. From the sound of his moan, James agreed.

“Gonna give you the best fucking ride of your life you’ve ever had,” Wade muttered, the mask fluttering against the back of her fingers. “…With clothes on, anyway.” She felt the fabric grow damp as he licked at her hand through the mask. “Do this again when we can all move properly.” James hummed into her mouth, drawing far enough away to bite at her lower lip before hungrily claiming it again. “Rock your fucking world; maximum effort, ladies and gentlemen.”

 _Through the suit?_ Darcy wanted to ask, but instead she just pushed her hips even harder against the back of his hand. She and James pulled away from each other, drawing heavy, shuddering breaths. He rested her forehead against hers, brushing soft kisses as their breathing evened out. Then Wade twisted his wrist and James jerked, biting his lip on a moan.

“Wade, I want to kiss you, too.” Darcy whispered, pulling herself up enough so she could rest her chin on James’ shoulder. The hand on her breast tightened, fingertips pressing against the flesh above the soft material. James hummed in her ear, moving his own hand lower to rub at her hip. “It’s completely dark, I’m not going to see anything you don’t want to see.”

All movement stilled, heavy panting resonating though the cramped chamber, waiting on Wade’s answer. He groaned, pushing his mouth, then his chin into the back of her hand. “The neck tucks into the suit. Can you pull it?” The angle strained her wrist, but she managed to get a grip of the fabric and tug it free. He rubbed his face against her fingers, the two of them pushing the mask up above his nose. She tried to move it higher, but he pulled away. “That’s enough.”

Darcy relented, resting her hand on James’ neck again. “I’m totally pouting right now.” The two men chuckled, Wade licking at her fingers again. They both gasped at the rough texture of his tongue as he dragged it up James’ neck and pulled her pinky into his mouth, sucking hard. “Pouting hardcore.” She continued breathily. In reply, James dragged the sharp edge of his teeth against her earlobe while Wade bit her finger lightly. He resumed rubbing James (and Darcy) while his other hand tried to burrow under her bra.

“Ouch, ouch, ouch,” she hissed, digging her teeth into the flesh of James’ shoulder. “Bra’s too tight.” Someone’s hand on her back moved, then the pressure was eased and finally, finally, his hand was on her flesh. Her nipple was lightly pinched between two knuckles; an electric zing of sensation that seemed to connect directly to her cunt. She uttered a low curse, sucking and biting at James’ skin. He grabbed her ass and pulled her tight against him, grinding up against her and pushing the back of Wade’s hand into her. Hurts so good.

The air in the trunk was hot, so hot that she was licking the sweat off James’ skin as it formed. He was doing the same in between grunts of pleasure as Wade’s hand worked on his cock. Wade seemed just as close to completion as they were, if the steady stream of “fuck”s was anything to go by. He released her finger with a ‘pop’, nosing at her cheek until she let James go. Heavily chapped lips met hers, then he was kissing her, deep, wet, and dirty. James seemed to be carrying on his own love affair with her neck; there was going to be an impressive set of hickeys left behind tomorrow.

Darcy was the first to climax as the combination of fingers, lips, and teeth hit her in just the right way. It was so intense that her whole body stiffened, clutching James so hard that she was sure she left fingernail marks (that would probably be gone in minutes, how unfair). Wade followed when she moved her hand from James’ neck to his, pulling them even closer so she could suck his tongue with the same ferocity she would use on his dick, given the chance. From the sound of his long moan, he seemed to get the message. 

Now sated, the two of them were free to focus all their attention on James. Darcy burrowed her hand into his pants to help Wade. She pushed Wade’s hand away, giving a pleased hum at the hot, heavy weight in her hand, slick with precum. She spent a few moments learning his shape in the same way that Wade had, then slipped her hand lower, over the soft, wrinkled skin of his testicles. They were drawn hard and tight against his body, and he cursed when she rubbed her thumb against them. 

Wade’s hand returned to James’ cock, the two of them taking turns whispering dirty promises into his ears. Darcy was already getting revved up again, her hips rolling against the thick muscle of his thigh. It’s Wade’s description of the two of them on their knees before James, taking turns licking his cock like an all-day jawbreaker, that was the last straw. His balls pulsed in her hand and hot cum streamed through Wade’s fingers to burn hotly on the inside of her wrist.

Exhausted, James slumped against Wade. Darcy and Wade withdrew their hands from his pants; the hungry sounds of mouths on flesh filled the container as they both licked his release from their skin. Darcy pushed up against James again, grabbing the back of his head and drawing him down to share a kiss. He licked his taste from her mouth while Wade nuzzled his ear, uttering nonsense and petting them both while they came down from the high.

“Still have a problem with tight spaces?” Darcy murmured once their breathing returned to normal.

James tensed, then laughed ruefully. “I was fine until you brought it up again.” He heaved a long sigh into her neck. 

“On the other hand, I feel very relaxed.” Wade said, then grunted in annoyance. “Or I would if I could stretch my legs out all the way.”

As if to answer his plea, the locks on the trunk clicked open and light speared through the darkness. All three of them raised a hand as one to shade their eyes from the sudden brightness, only to find a bewildered SHIELD agent staring at them.

“Uh,” the hapless agent said. Wade reached his other hand up and started poking at a device on his wrist. Before they teleported away, Darcy grabbed the waistband of James’ pants with one hand and her purse and camera with the other. 

“Ready!” She told Wade, who nodded and pushed the final button. James wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her tightly against him, tighter than he ever had inside the trunk. She tried to tell him that she couldn’t breathe, but then there was no air at all. The world spun and turned white, then they dropped out of thin air onto a bed.

Darcy gasped, pulling in a deep breath, then started to laugh. Wade and James stared at her, then joined in, the three of them laughing helplessly and clutching each other on a bed barely large enough for the three of them.


	14. Meet the roommate who is blind to life's imperfections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No items are found. Darcy and James meet Blind Al.

_James believes there are two kinds of people; those who are filled with energy after a good orgasm (ie: Darcy)_

Darcy rolled off the bed, bouncing to her feet. “Where’s the bathroom?”

_(and Wade)_

Wade sprang up, holding out a hand to James, who waved it off. “Out the door, straight across the hallway. You can’t miss it, there’s only two other doors in the place and the other one leads to the room of a former British Intelligence contractor with an unfortunate ongoing fungal infection. Seriously, don’t let her take her shoes off. Two words: black toenails.”

“Gross.” Darcy mimed gagging, then slipped out of the bedroom. As soon as the door closed, Wade was stripping out of his suit and cleaning himself off with his boxers. He wandered around the room in his undershirt, mask still pulled up over his nose and nothing else, picking clothes up off the floor and subjecting them to the time-honored smell test. 

_And those who would rather go to sleep (him)_

James tried to stretch, but only succeeded with three out of four limbs. His prosthetic arm gave a pitiful whine and moved about two inches before freezing again. “Want some advice?” He asked, reaching up with his other hand to activate the reboot sequence. 

“About what?” Wade replied cautiously, holding a pair of red and black suit bottoms halfway to his nose. 

“Darcy.” It was hard to pretend to be casual when his arm was moving on it’s own, moving through the full extension and flexion on each joint. “If she thinks you’re hiding something from her but not me, she’ll be pretty damned mad.” He glanced at Wade’s bare ass, then wiggled his eyebrows. Also hard to pull off sexy when your arm was grinding gears and smelling like hot motor oil.

Wade ‘hmm’ed in response, glancing at the suit bottoms in his hand, then at the general disarray of the room. “Fuck,” he grumbled, tossing them aside and pulling on a pair of jeans instead. James closed his eyes and leaned back against the pillows while his arm ran through the rest of the reboot sequence. 

“Oh damn!” 

James glanced at Wade through his eyelashes, grunting a semi-intelligible “What?”

“We just failed a reverse Bechdel test. Or does the fact that we’re talking about the Bechdel test now count as us discussing something other than Darcy?” Wade’s head popped through the neck hole of a long-sleeved shirt, still half-masked. “Or is it still failing, since I’m asking about the Bechdel test because of her?”

James didn’t really know what Wade was talking about, and was honestly too relaxed to care. “I dunno. What’s that?” He asked anyway just to hear the other man talk. It helped as a distraction when the feedback from his arm suddenly went dead and he fell into the weird space where his arm reacted to nerve impulses but didn’t provide any sensory input. Wade's voice put him into a calming, almost meditative state where he drifted, murmuring an occasional noise to help the monologue along.

“And _that_ movie generated the Mako Mori test-“ Wade paused as the toilet flushed across the hall, followed by water running briefly. James opened his eyes again, watching Darcy slip back into the bedroom. She glanced at the heavily scarred skin visible on his bare feet and hands, then to the lower half of his face, where his mouth was pressed in a tight line. 

She blinked, then reached up and put a hand on the nape of his neck. James watched them exchange a brief kiss, then she was throwing herself over the bed-and him. “Mako Mori’s the bomb. There should be a national holiday in her honor.” She wiggled around a bit and overbalanced, almost throwing herself off the bed. James wrapped an arm around her and pulled her back into place. 

“Hell yeah.” Wade tucked a pistol into the back of his jeans, then paused, patting at his chest. James and Darcy exchanged identical bemused glances when he spun around like a dog chasing his tail; first clockwise then counter-clockwise. “Shit-snacks! I need to get that fancy magnetic thing Cap uses on his shield. This whole leaving-weapons-behind trend is getting to be really expensive.”

“Just don’t put them on the katanas,” James offered, the metal picture of two sharp pieces of metal hurtling through the air making him shudder.

“I bet they’re still in that storage room.” Darcy braced her chin in one hand and used the other to poke at his metal hand where his fingers were currently moving in a pattern that placed properly on a piano would result in the left-hand chords of the Blue Danube waltz. “Didn’t you drop your harness outside that trunk?” 

Wade snapped his fingers and pointed finger guns at Darcy. “Yes!” He skipped forward and dropped kisses on both their foreheads before stepping back. “I’ll be back in a jiffy. Make yourselves at home. _Mi casa es su casa._ Toodles!” The merc flicked two fingers at them in a loose salute before blinking out of the room.

Darcy climbed up James’ body like a little monkey. He imagined Darcy as one of those large-eyed lemur monkeys and felt a small grin tug at the corner of his mouth. The expression still felt a little awkward and uncomfortable. But she responded with a bright smile that was impossible not to return. “You want to go raid his fridge?”

The arm finished the reboot and James grunted as his brain was suddenly flooded with readings. “Sec, just a sec,” he said through gritted teeth, riding the wave of sensation until he was finally able to tune out the irrelevant data. When he came to, Darcy was stroking her fingers through his hair, humming a tune he didn’t recognize (which, to be honest, wasn’t saying a whole lot). James took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then quirked an eyebrow at her. “Ten bucks says he’s got nothing but leftovers and microwaveable meals.”

“Hmm.” She tapped a finger against the cleft in his chin. “Beer counts,” she announced before rolling off him and to her feet. James sighed and nodded, pushing himself off the bed. 

“Fine, beer counts.” So much for that bet. He followed her out into the main living space, which was filled with cheap, poorly assembled IKEA furniture. 

“Hmm. You’d think someone with his hand-eye coordination would be better at putting together furniture.”

“That’s because he didn’t do it.”

James was reacting to the unfamiliar voice before she finished speaking. He pulled Darcy behind him while simultaneously drawing one of many, many weapons and aiming it at the mysterious roommate. The door to the fridge was open, hiding everything but a pair of mauve sweatpants and orthopedic white shoes. The owner of the sweatpants straightened, revealing an elderly woman with wrinkled brown skin and a shock of white and silver hair. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, the purpose of which became clear when she had to feel her way to the table.

“I appreciate the feedback, though. I’ll keep that in mind in the future.” Contrary to Wade’s description, her accent was entirely American. James released his grip on Darcy, letting her move forward into the kitchen. 

“Hi, you must be Wade’s roommate. I’m Darcy, and this is James.” 

The woman reached out a hand for Darcy to shake, then held it out in James’ general direction. He reached forward and shook it firmly. “Ma’am.”

“Althea. Call me Al. Would you like something to drink?” Whatever they might have said was immediately interrupted as Al continued. “Because so would I, but that jackass rearranged all the cupboards while I was gone. I tried to make coffee this morning and ended up with a cup of hot baking soda flavored with curry ketcup.”

“Oh.” 

“The sugar was also baking soda.”

Darcy snorted, then immediately clapped her hands over her mouth, shooting a mortified look at James. “We’re waiting on Wade to come back before we head out. Do you want me to fix you anything before we go?”

Al hesitated. “There is something, if you don’t mind.” She smiled at Darcy’s effusive affirmations, but something about the smile hinted that she wasn’t the innocent old lady she was currently playing at. “I’ve been a little… let’s be polite and say blocked up. Could you find my laxatives for me? They should be in the bathroom medicine cabinet.”

“Sure!” Darcy nodded, sliding past James and heading back to the bathroom. He took a seat across from Al, silently analyzing her. Something about her looked vaguely familiar… He shifted slightly, enough for his arm to make an audible metallic whine. She paled at the noise, her skin turning an ashy grey. 

“You certainly are the strong and silent type.” Al slid her chair back slightly, grabbing the edge of the table so hard that her fingertips turned white. “I guess not much has changed.” She was on edge, ready for some kind of offensive action, which meant she knew him. Or at least she knew the arm.

“British Intelligence contractor.” He examined her face, pictured it with fewer wrinkles, black hair instead of white. “Egypt, late 50s?” 

“Close. Sudan. Aren’t you a little old for these two?”

“Age ain’t nothin’ but a number.” Darcy put a box of over the counter medicine in front of Al. “Here you go, Al. I would go the extra mile and grind them up for you, but he should be here any second.” She started opening kitchen cabinets, poking through their contents. “Do you want them in the coffee?”

“What?” They stared at Darcy.

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “He rearranged the cabinets. Total dick move. The med cabinet too, by the way, so be careful there. So,” she pointed a finger at the laxatives on the table, “how are you going to dose him?”

“Honey, I’m home!” Wade sang out from his bedroom. 

Al grabbed the laxatives off the table, sliding them out of sight. “I’ll take care of it,” she whispered to Darcy, shooting the younger girl a quick smile.

“Oh good, you met Al. Isn’t she just the best?” Wade leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. He had completely abandoned the mask, instead using a hoodie to shelter his face from casual view. He glanced from James to Darcy, smiling nervously.

James glanced at Al. Her face was no longer quite so ashen, and her grip on the table had eased. Forced relaxation for Wade’s benefit? It was entirely plausible that she was trying to protect him from them. “She’s been very kind.” His head was hurting trying to keep up with all of the undercurrents in the room. “You guys ready to go?”

“Sure. What’s left on the list?”

Darcy pulled the well-worn paper out of her purse, unfolding it on the table. “We pretty much have two locations left; Mysterio’s hideout and the Baxter building.” Everyone pulled the same disgusted face when the Fantastic Four’s headquarters was mentioned. “I guess it’s about time to check up on Peter and Matt, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the possible backstories for Blind Al is that she was the first Black Widow. I think that retired Natasha would act pretty similar to this.


	15. Worst. Kidnapper. Ever.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [x] Rescue Spidey and Magoo  
> [x] A selfie with a supervillain  
> [x] The obligatory civilian member of the team "rescuing" one of the supers

The warehouse district was far enough away from the subway that they’d had to take a cab. A cab driven by a cab driver who was apparently very familiar with Wade, enough to exchange high-fives over a picture of a very pretty and very pregnant lady. 

“That’s sweet enough to give me diabetes, Dopinder.” Wade showed the picture to Bucky and Darcy in the back seat. “And you even named the baby Deadpool Jr? That is just adorable. Of course I’ll be the godfather! I’ll be the best damn godfather since Marlon Brando.”

“We have not yet decided on a name, Mr. Pool,” Dopinder tacked the picture back onto his dashboard, next to the meter. A meter that Darcy couldn’t help noticing was turned off. “And thank you for the offer, but Gita and I do not practice the tradition of godparents.”

“Then I’ll be the best damn uncle. ‘Cause you and me, Dopinder?” Wade flicked his finger back and forth between the two men. “Totally connected now. We got that whole red string of fate thing and we’ll always be besties.”

Dopinder chuckled as he pulled to the side of the road. “Of course, Mr. Pool. I look forward to it.” His laughter turned to shock as Wade handed him a wad of crumpled bills. He stuttered his thanks and Wade’s grin took on a slightly harder edge.

“And as a belated wedding gift, I’ll overlook the fact that you pawned all my guns instead of returning them to me.” The scarred mercenary leaned in close to the now nervous cabbie and bopped him gently on the nose. “Especially since you knew where I lived. Tell Gita I said hello!” 

Dopinder swallowed hard and nodded as they exited the cab. He gave them a shaky smile and a wave as he drove off.

“And that’s why we do it,” Wade said, satisfaction dripping from him as he waved back to the departing Dopinder. “Changing lives one person at a time.” 

“You’re better entertainment than Sam’s _telanovelas_.” Bucky commented. Wade’s expression brightened and suddenly Darcy’s world was spinning as he grabbed her hand and pulled her into a twirl that ended in a dip so deep she couldn’t help but arch her back over his arm, throwing her head back with one arm to her forehead in a pose straight out of a romance novel cover. He crooned to her in Spanish, his hand caressing down her thigh, callouses scratching roughly on the denim, before grabbing her knee and jerking it to his hip.

Darcy cracked open one eye and peered up at him suspiciously. “You want to caress my toad beside Bucky while I whisper sweet nothings to your eggs?” All she got was a dirty grin and a wiggle of the ridges where his eyebrows probably used to be. “I get the feeling none of that is appropriate for the public.” 

“Pretty sure we’re all thinking things that ain’t appropriate to do in public,” Bucky said. She rolled her head over to look at him and felt her whole body shiver at the heat in his gaze. “Things that we could be getting to a lot faster if we decided to focus on, say, rescuing our teammates.”

Wade pulled Darcy upright and snapped to attention, whipping out a sharp salute to the other man. “Anything for the promise of future nookie, sir!” 

As a group they turned to face the building across the street where Mysterio was most likely keeping the rest of their team held hostage. Darcy took in the random non-descript warehouse with the plywood-covered windows and rusted corrugated tin that seemed to be _de rigueur_ for the neighborhood. “Who’s disappointed that we won’t be getting to try Mommy Mysterio’s peanut butter cookies?” 

The trio solemnly raised hands to indicate a shared disappointment at the lack of delicious baked goods. Then Wade was grabbing the scavenger list and pen from her purse and drawing a rough map of the building’s interior for Bucky. The two bent over the map, discussing a plan of attack in low voices, completely disregarding any assistance she might be able to provide.

(Which was probably for the best. While Darcy was fully aware of her awesomeness, she was also aware said awesomeness did not extend to physical combat.)

“So I’m going to go wait over here,” she told them, gesturing to a spot that seemed a safe distance away should the impending chaos spill outside the building. “You guys let me know when you’re done chewing bubblegum and kicking ass. Just don’t bust up the fishbowl guy too much, we want him to be recognizable in the picture.”

They nodded at her before striding across the street, twin pictures of broad-shouldered menace that made her knees weak. She let out a wolf whistle and laughed as they both stumbled in the middle of their strut. Any cool points that they lost were immediately regained when Barnes effortlessly kicked in the door. Wade turned to blow her a kiss before teleporting into the building. She craned her neck, trying to get a better view through the open door, but her efforts were in vain. Apparently she was too far away to hear anything, either. Darcy sighed and pouted (then wondered at what point in her life being denied the opportunity to witness carnage became an event worth pouting over).

After scarcely any time at all, Wade teleported next to her with a rush of displaced air. “Ready, boo?” He didn’t wait for an answer, grabbing her and pulling her against his chest. Her vision spun and grew white for a heartbeat before fading out to what must have been the inside of the warehouse. Bucky had his best Winter-Soldier-Murder-Death-Glare™ fixed on the fishbowl guy, who was kneeling on the concrete in the middle of the room. Even though she couldn’t see his face, every line of the villain’s body was slouched in abject despair. She almost felt sorry for the guy (almost).

She turned to Matt and Peter. “So we managed to get just about everything crossed off the list. I hope you guys have vacation time saved up, because this scavenger hunt is in the bag.” She shook her purse at them for added effect. “Did you have fun being kidnapped?”

“Ugh,” Peter moaned, and behind his mask Darcy was sure he was rolling his eyes so hard they were liable to come out of the sockets. “Today was the worst. This is the first day I’ve had off in years, _years!_ And Mister ‘I Get Butthurt When People See Through My Illusions’ just _has_ to kidnap us to figure out why we aren’t ever fooled. I had to trade shifts with like five people just to get today off, just so I could sit in an ergonomically unfriendly chair for hours and listen to a guy who can’t seem to figure out that everyone sees through his illusions because we all have _supersenses!_ ” 

“Why didn’t you get us earlier?” Matt’s voice was neutral, but the type of neutral that Darcy suspected was just barely holding back judgement. 

She cringed and edged back behind Wade for protection. “Because we really wanted to win and we thought rescuing you guys from an actual supervillain was worth extra points?” 

(Matt’s Disapproving Dad Face was even worse than Steve’s.)

“And look!” Wade wrapped his arm around her, tucking her against his side while he waved at Mysterio with his other hand. “You guys get a free vacation while we did all the work!”

Neither Matt or Peter looked even remotely impressed with Wade’s reasoning. 

“If it helps, we were stuck in a trunk for at least an hour by the other team.” Darcy looked guiltily at Wade, who was beginning to look a bit ashamed himself.

Matt shook his head, frowning. “Which probably wouldn’t have happened if you had just came to get us in the first place.”

“Enough.” Bucky emphasized his command with an emphatic slicing gesture. “We can argue about it later. Let’s get on with it.” His forceful tone sent a shiver through Darcy; a shiver that she felt echo through Wade.

He leaned closer and murmured “that’s what she said,” before drawing away, eyes dancing with glee. She had to bite her knuckle to stifle the inappropriate giggle. “So since I’m back to being the fifth wheel, how about I take those pictures for you?” He suggested in a louder voice, accepting the camera that Darcy held out to him.

Poor Mysterio still looked so sad; she couldn’t help but pat his shoulder as they gathered around him for the victory photo. Every so often, the villain would mumble “supersenses” to himself under his breath.

“Say cheesles, everyone!” Wade sang before the camera stuttered light in rapid-fire flashes. He glanced at the screen, then up at Darcy. “Are you pulling duck face on me, D-money?”

“Of course,” she answered breezily, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “How else would you know it’s a selfie?” Beside her, Bucky uttered a sharp snort of laughter.

After that, the only thing left was the role reversal photo of a civilian rescuing a supe. Deadpool directed them with the seriousness of a wedding photographer, but the end result was much better than her initial idea of Spiderman in a bridal carry.

The final photo was staged so that she appeared to be dragging Spiderman and Daredevil by the backs of their suits, with the Winter Soldier draped over her back. At one point, Bucky let a portion of his weight sag onto her, causing her to stumble and curse. He snickered into her ear, which resulted in shouts from Wade about how he’d ruined the shot.

(That photo ended up being one of Darcy’s favorites, purely because of the impish smile on Bucky’s face.)

Pictures taken, Wade handed the camera back to Darcy and stepped back, an oddly serious look on his face. “So that’s it, I guess.”

Confusion drew a deep furrow into Darcy’s brow. “What’s it?”

Wade waved at Peter and Matt, who were observing the exchange with unabashed interest. (Honestly, superheroes were the worst gossips.) “You’ve got the rest of your group back. You really don’t need my help anymore.” 

“Need it? No.” Darcy watched Wade’s face fall at Bucky’s words and couldn’t help but reach out to him, her own heart falling at the unexpected lack of support. “But we’d damn sure like to have it.” Bucky continued after a pause (the troll), putting a hand around Wade and Darcy and drawing the three of them into a loose triangle.

“Besides,” Darcy added as inspiration struck. “It’s about time you were officially invited to an Avengers party. No more party crashing.” 

Wade grinned, any hint of angst gone. “I like crashing. Stark still hasn’t figured out how I get in. His face always turns the best shade of red.” Bucky nodded in confirmation and Darcy snickered, leaning against Wade’s shoulder while she curled her fingers through Bucky’s.

“What’s left on the list?” 

Darcy jumped at Peter’s voice, having completely forgotten the other two were there. She turned to face them and heat rose in her cheeks when she saw Matt’s crooked smile. “Just Mr. Fantastic’s business card.” A round of groans and eye-rolls met her answer. She shrugged. “It’s worth the most points and it’s the last thing left to do for the scavenger hunt.”

“And,” Wade’s arm came over her shoulder, brandishing his teleporter for all to see. “I’ve got this wonderful doohickey that will save us valuable travel time. So grab hold, kiddies, it’s time to visit the Baxter Building!”

They clustered around Wade and for the third time that day, Darcy’s vision spun white. As the world began to fade around them, she could vaguely hear Bucky’s panicked voice say “Wait, the arm!”

\---..---

Mysterio watched the group leave the warehouse, chatting about some kind of hunt. He sat on the cold concrete for a few minutes, but when no one came to check on him, he pushed himself to his feet and cautiously crept towards the broken door. The glass globe on his head prevented any glance through the doorway from being discreet, but it ended up being a moot point as the suits that had busted down his door and rescued his hostages vanished before his eyes.

Apparently they had forgotten all about him. He didn’t question it, just got out of there as quickly as possible before they remembered that they hadn’t bothered to put him in any restraints.


	16. The perfect recipe for radioactive naked mole rats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [x] Reed Richards' business card  
> Add one teleportation device, one mysterious Wakandan power source, and Reed Richard's latest attempt to break the laws of time and space, and you get the perfect recipe for radioactive mutant animals overrunning Manhattan.
> 
> Also, the after party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a huge fan of Reed Richards. He just comes across as a dick in almost every aspect of the multiverse.

Darcy had no clue how it happened, but from what she gathered through Reed Richard’s ranting, their arrival inside the Baxter building had somehow interacted in a way with one of his quantum-dimensional experiments or whatever in a way that resulted in Manhattan being overrun with giant radioactive naked mole rats.

Apparently teleporting doohickeys weren’t supposed to be used to transport whatever it was the Wakandans had used to power Bucky’s new arm.

(Darcy suspected that Richards was responsible for more than he was admitting. It seemed he was constantly two lab explosions away from becoming a supervillain.)

Whatever the cause, Darcy was pulling her usual “get the civilians out of the danger zone before letting them take selfies” role, letting the costumed superheroes do all the hard work. Which had the unfortunate side-effect of putting her on the wrong side of the barricade when she tried to get back to the Fantastic Four HQ for the forgotten business card. By the time Wade teleported to her side, she was glaring at the police officer in front of her and trying to give him stomach cramps or severe diarrhea with the force of her mind. He whisked her away before she had the chance to discover a heretofore unknown mutant power, depositing her in a place she recognized as the lobby of the Baxter Building.

Though he still wore civilian clothes, at some point during the fracas he’d pulled on a mask. One sleeve was stained red, but from the wide grin shining through the mask, she guessed his healing factor had already taken care of it. She still didn’t stop herself from petting him as she asked “Having fun?” 

“Oodles. I’m finally getting my action scene!” He rubbed his nose against hers, pinched her butt, and was gone again. At least this time she had a whole wall of glass windows through which to watch the fight.

Darcy unabashedly dug through the absent secretary’s desk for the requested business card. Once located, she relaxed on the plush lobby furniture and drifted off into a daydream about tropical islands and hot, muscly men.

\---..---

Pictures from each group had been compiled into a slideshow and projected onto the far wall while party guests mingled and traded stories about whatever picture was currently being displayed.

Despite their best arguments, any photo with Deadpool in it was banned from the slideshow. While other groups had members temporarily bow out due to fighting crime and other superhero business, they had been the only ones to pull in a stranger. Their argument that he was accepted as a temporary member of the game had been shot down. As a result, the photos technically counted for the purposes of the scavenger hunt, but their team had to deal with the barrage of questions about their absence in the slideshow.

Darcy wanted nothing more than to go over to Tony Stark and give him a good kick in the shin, birthday be damned.

Instead, she was sitting in Bucky’s lap, nursing a beer and trying to activate a latent mutant power through the sheer force of an irate glare.

“Good god, Lewis, get off his lap if it makes you that mad.” Tony told her with a cocky smirk that said he knew exactly what was grinding her gears. “This is taking unresolved sexual tension to a whole new level of ridiculousness. Find a room already and take care of it. Any room.” He waved his arm in a wide arc to indicate the entirety of the tower. “Just make sure you let the housekeeping staff know if you get into shenanigans in the more public rooms. For hygiene reasons, I’m sure you understand.” He yelped as Natasha punched him none-too-gently in the arm.

“Relax, babe.” Bucky stroked a warm palm up her spine. She couldn’t help but smile and lean into him. Catcalls and wolf whistles surrounded them, to which she and Bucky answered with a pair of raised middle fingers to the crowd at large. After some good-natured ribbing, discussion moved to other topics and their public display of affection was no longer the center of attention. 

Besides the truly lovely way in which Bucky was petting her, sitting on his lap also gave her an extra couple of inches in height. Enough so that she was able to scan the room for a certain someone…

“He’ll be here.” Bucky murmured in her ear when she twisted around in his lap for the twentieth time to look behind her. “He was invited to crash, remember?”

“I know,” Darcy said, then sighed as he raised doubtful eyebrows. “I know,” she repeated, nodding firmly for her own benefit. 

As if on cue, Tony glanced behind them and groaned, dragging a hand down his face and rolling his eyes in frustration. “Can’t I have just one party that he doesn’t show up at uninvited? Just one?”

Darcy tuned out Tony’s griping and swiveled around again to scan the room. Upon spotting the familiar red and black suit, Darcy jumped from Bucky’s lap and ran to him. “Wa~ade!” She called, loud enough to be heard over the noise of the party (loud enough to let him know he was welcome). His grin stretched the lines of his mask and he visibly relaxed, throwing his arms wide to her. She jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist, hugging him tightly as a tension she hadn’t known she was carrying melted out of her shoulders.

Wade laughed, grabbing his wrists behind her to provide extra support. “And I thought I made a flashy entrance.”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Tony walked up to the pair, signaling for a time-out. “Since when are you two all buddy-buddy?” His eyes narrowed, then widened in suspicion as he pointed an accusing finger at Darcy. “You! You’ve been sneaking him into the Tower somehow! How, Lewis? How could you betray me like this?” The inventor clutched a fist to his chest and Darcy rolled her eyes good-naturedly at the dramatics. 

“We tried to tell you, Stark.” Barnes walked up and held out beers for Wade and Darcy. “He’s a member of our team.” 

She took her beer and whispered promises in a red spandex-covered ear of later plans involving walls that were definitely not appropriate for public display, then hopped down so he could take the offered beer without having to juggle her weight. Meeting Tony’s stunned gaze, she winked and sipped at her beer with a smug grin.

“I am speechless. I don’t think my brain is even capable of parsing this.” Tony turned and walked away, shaking his head.

“Does that mean we can have our pictures now?” Darcy called out after his retreating form. In reply, Tony waved his hand and the display changed to show Deadpool planting a smacking kiss on Gambit.

Bucky tilted his head back towards the couches where they’d been sitting earlier. “Come on. Clint’s telling stories about the other groups he tricked. Apparently we weren’t the only ones.” The trio made their way over to the others, settling in on one of the empty couches and watching Clint tell his story with expansive hand gestures.

After a while, Wade nudged Darcy to grab her attention. “Hey, did we win?”

Bucky leaned over and grinned. “How do you feel about clothing-optional beaches on remote tropical islands?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the last chapter, they get there fast and take it slow.


	17. Quick update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's note.

(AN: Rather than a single chapter, I decided to spin off the island vacation into it's own story and try writing gratuitous smut. I'm adding this as a separate chapter so folks who have it bookmarked can check out the next story [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11260425). A huge thank you to everyone who left comments, it certainly warms my little gecko heart <3 )


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